Mama dearest, as I sit here on this AirAsia flight headed toward our neighbouring country to start work tomorrow, I can’t help but wonder how I have ended up making a future for myself there, and not here at home with you.

I still vividly remember arguing with my best friend as she went on and on about the wonders of the West, and how you’re not moving anywhere close to being a ‘developed nation’. I remember arguing with her about how you will be that developed nation soon enough. I remember trying to plant patriotism in a soul, who is yearning to be accepted for her talents and not her background.

She told me “One day, you’ll see...” - that I’ll see what she meant (you have seen or you will see - what do you mean here?).

Fast forward to today.

I am still your daughter, now a successful law graduate, and now imbuing other young minds about the law in a home-away-from-home foreign land. Every time I walk into the class to teach Constitutional and Administrative Law; I remind them of the importance of understanding and being conscious of how their government works, and the methods of their rule.

I then ask myself - “Is that why I left?”

I suppose Mama, to say I left for something better may be an overstatement because I know I will return to you, after all there in no place like home, and the comfort of your special shelter. There is no corner in this world where I’d meet people like your children, nor enjoy the magnificent food that you’ve served me for the last 20 years.

I will never see nature the way you’ve her shown me; filled with inspiring wonder and true beauty, that constantly feeds wanderlust souls like me. (don’t use the work abyss – it has a negative meaning)

Yet, Mama, I still feel like I don’t belong to you or with you, and that confuses me...

I’m either constantly defined by my religion, my colour and my ethnicity, and even by my economic standing, when in reality I’m just as Malaysian as the rest of your children. I don’t remember you pushing me aside because I was a different colour or spoke a different language. I always thought you brought us up together, and treated us all the same (don’t use took us in - it suggests you are a migrant). So why do I still feel like I don’t belong when in fact I do?

When I started reading for my law degree, I did it with so much idealism and sincerity, aspiring to help fix whatever many of your children think is wrong with you. Things changed overnight though, Mama. It was my second year in law school, and I had one of the best, teaching me the Law of Evidence.

He often drilled into our heads that the key to a successful submission of evidence was that it was ‘corroborative’. It has become my mantra; in a perfect loop until the headlines in the papers screamed, “DSA behind bars for another 5 years”.

My heart dropped Mama. A man who had a charge that was longer than the Star Wars sequels and prequels put together, was returning to prison despite the lack of ‘corrobative evidence’.

Deluded by my naïve patriotism?

Tell me, Mama, was my teacher wrong?

Or was I deluded by my naïve patriotism? Was I looking at a judicial system that could not uphold the law, without fear or favour? Is it not rational to believe that my government will do everything within its power to uphold the law and our Federal Constitution? Is it silly to believe that every citizen has rights that will be protected no matter what the political friction?

Tell me, Mama, tell me?

What is then the point of my law lecturers teaching me about the rule of law and the separation of power? I refuse to accept that they were just doing their jobs. They work hard to educate us, and the people around them about the importance of the law, good government and democracy.

Is it the case, Mama, that everything I have learnt was just someone’s hopes and aspirations, an idealistic view of what the world ought to be. Have I have been daydreaming about a future for us that can never be because I am everything else first, before I can be Malaysian?

I know very well change is inevitable but every day, I fear that no matter how much the people who are dedicated to this cause push for change, it will never happen because whatever is being done not is just enough. Everyone of your children needs to believe in that change, and work towards it no matter how small the effort.

One of my students always asked me, “Why fix something that’s not broken?” and I fear that’s the attitude that we’ve adopted for you, Mama. I know it’s not fair, and I’m sure you want to see and feel change for yourself - to start with a clean slate - a new you?

I may not be home with you Mama, when you celebrate this coming birthday, but I want you to know that no matter how far away I am, I will forever identify myself as your child because my love for you will never fade. You have instilled values in me that no one else can. You have given me a home to come back to, and a chance at a good life for which I shall be eternally grateful, Mama.

Happy birthday, Mama. I hope you get better in the coming days, and forever be our glorious home and our brightest light.

Selamat Hari Merdeka, Mama.